


Gleaming in the Wreckage

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars Episode V: Empire Strikes Back, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Tumblr Prompt, bastardization of canon for presumptuous personal purposes, batshit crazy depictions of the mechanics of vader's suit, cuddle or die, ridiculously self-indulgent - author needs to check herself before she wrecks herself, this is not and will never be incest just leave me alone in my father&son fluff hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:39:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7917208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke and Vader are stuck beneath the wreckage of a Rebel Base on Orto Plutonia, and the storm outside makes it dangerous to leave. And the human body happens to need a certain level of warmth to function.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gleaming in the Wreckage

**Author's Note:**

> "Anonymous asked: For a prompt, what about a fluffy Luke/Vader one where they're stuck together on a cold planet and Luke needs to snuggle up to Vader for warmth (be says there's no way the suit's an efficient machine, so it probably bleeds heat like nobody's business)?"
> 
> Luke, just cuddle with your dad. Just _do it. DON'T LET YOUR DREAMS BE DREAMS_

Vader stalked around the small, frigid cavern, observing the thick walls of ice and snow. “There is a storm outside. It would be too risky to consider abdicating now.”

 

Luke pushed himself into the wall, as far away as he could get from the Dark Lord, back into the ice. “F-Freezing to death d-doesn’t sound like a g-good option.”

 

Vader’s helmet swiveled to meet Luke’s gaze. “You will not be _dying,_ young one.”

 

His voice, beneath the vocoder, was sharper than a whip.

 

Luke gave a violent shiver, but his frustration fueled him. “I’d d-die before going with you.”

 

Vader stiffened, near imperceptibly. “You are _naïve._ You will learn.”

 

“L-Learn what?” Luke snapped. He felt like a child, curled in the corner, arms wrapped around himself, trying to summon whatever warmth he could. “T-That the Empire is _just – "_

 

“It is _better_ ,” Vader said. He didn't explain.

 

“H-How can you s-say that – “

 

“ _Enough_.”

 

Vader’s voice was quiet and deadly. Luke, angry, but too weak to fight, fell silent.

 

He remembered that they’d once tried to take out Vader, when he'd been stranded. Vader destroyed every soldier, every bomber, and every fighter in his way; he was the biggest obstacle, the most dogged enemy. One cell reported Vader flipping entire walkers.

 

Defected Imperials spoke of Vader like some sort of avenging god, a destructive angel. One former stormtrooper told Luke, in a hushed whisper, “You respected him. He’s a menace, but he was _your_ menace, and you respect that.”

 

If Vader came on the battlefield, rebels were told to run. Don’t look back, just go. Nothing they found could stop him; he could deflect _canon_ blasts with just a lightsaber.

 

The stories were endless.

 

Luke knew that Vader could leave if he wanted to. There seemed to be nothing in the galaxy that could phase him – a storm in the ruins of a rebel base on Orto Plutonia would roll right off his armor. Vader could walk through fire and come out unscathed – snow was _nothing_ to him.

 

But he stayed. He stayed for _Luke._

 

Was it some fatherly instinct, belated, twisted, but there? Or was it the need to possess him – to keep his son like an object?

 

Who _had_ Anakin Skywalker been?

 

Luke groaned softly, teeth chattering. This was the part he always lost himself at.

 

On one hand, he’d heard the stories. Anakin Skywalker had been the bravest of the brave, a soldier, a leader, a brother. Old Clone Wars vets spoke of his creative plans, cocksure attitude, and how he would never, not once, not ever, leave a man behind. There was no one who didn’t know him.

 

Then, there were the stories his Aunt Beru had whispered; _the Skywalkers have been on Tatooine since before the suns can remember, and you are the first freeborn child in generations of slaves. The very first one._

 

His father had been a slave, once. His father had come from nothing.

 

On the other, he’d heard the stories. Darth Vader was an amalgamation of shadows and death, a cruel creature risen from the din to steal a tithe of lives and escape away into the blackness. He burned through cities and towns and planets and people without a second glance.

 

The was no one who didn’t know him.

 

There was no one who didn’t know his father, except for Luke, who couldn’t seem to build a person out of hundreds of stories.

 

“Cease with your infernal chattering,” Vader said. Luke shut his mouth with a click.

 

Luke’s eyes snapped to Vader, who stood, imperiously, arms crossed. Luke decided – if he was going to die, he’d die knowing that he tried.

 

“ _Sorry_ , Father,” Luke snapped. Just to see what it would do. 

 

Vader’s helmet turned to Luke, but the Sith said nothing.

 

The staring was about to get uncomfortable when Vader jolted into action, coming to stand in front of Luke, some looming pyre of darkness.

 

“You are cold,” Vader said.

 

“N-No w-way,” Luke said. “N-Never even n-noticed.”

 

Vader gazed at him a moment longer, and then he reached up, unclasped his cloak, and laid it over him.

 

Luke, desperate, scrambled beneath it, soaking up – residual warmth? Warmth, from Vader, who felt like a bellowing beast of ice in the Force?

 

Luke moved to re-adjust the cape, but Vader’s hand shot down and grabbed it. Luke flinched backward.

 

Vader knelt, slowly, inspecting Luke’s hand – it was nearly blue.

 

Luke could hardly breathe. He’d never been – he’d _never_ been this close. All he could smell was metal and ozone and plastic; Vader smelled like something manufactured.

 

Vader’s hands were so warm they burned his skin.

 

“You should have told me it was this severe,” Vader admonished. “You should have _told me.”_

 

“Y-You don’t h-have a history of c-caring about my limbs,” Luke said.

 

Vader stiffened. “I see.”

 

The air between them was awkward and stiff, and then Vader turned, and – sat down.

 

It seemed to be difficult to do. Vader’s back slammed into the ice with a heavy thud, the ice scraping against the bare metal.

 

Then, suddenly, Vader grabbed him, and hauled him close.

 

“P-PUT ME DOWN!” Luke shrieked, kicking out with his leg.

 

The Force coiled around him, and Luke found his limbs pinned together and unable to move. The cape, seemingly by itself, wrapped around Luke, who was – who was – who was _on Vader’s lap._

 

“L-Let me g-go,” Luke growled.

 

“You will die of frostbite otherwise,” Vader rumbled. From his new vantage point, Luke could _feel_ the vibration of Vader’s voice.

 

Luke wanted to bite back and say, _cuddling up to a machine won’t help!_ But, with a shock, he realized that Vader was _warm._ He was practically bleeding heat – the snow surrounding them was actually melting.

 

“W-Why are you w-warm?” Luke asked, quietly. “M-Metal should be cold – “

 

“It is the only way to distribute heat properly,” Vader said, vaguely.

 

Luke winced – Vader’s voice was _loud._

 

Luke sat, stewed in equal parts frustration, anger, and embarrassment. He was better than this – for Force’s sake, he could take care of himself. He should demand Vader let him go, he should lash out with the Force, and find a way through the storm – without his father.

 

Yet, some niggling thought plagued him: _if he cares about you, does that mean that there is good left in him?_

 

Luke didn’t know the answer. He wasn’t sure, entirely, that he wanted to know; what if there was nothing but darkness in his father, and this was an act of possession?

 

It didn’t feel that way. Their bond, however Luke had tried to deny it, was singing with something powerful and light – it felt, almost, like protectiveness. Honest-to-the-stars _happiness_.

 

Despite himself, Luke was touched. But how could he figure out whether Vader cared about him for his own selfish purposes, or because Luke was his son?

 

 _Maybe_ , Luke thought, _this calls for an experiment._

 

Instead of sitting ramrod straight, Luke relaxed, shifted into Vader more. The bond gave a sharp jolt of shock, and an equally powerful, but nameless, emotion. It lasted a couple seconds before Vader managed to get his wild emotions under control, and his mental shields went up.

 

 _Again,_ Luke thought.

 

And, for the finale: Luke laid his head against his father’s chest.

 

The bond flooded with new emotions, and Luke swore he could her someone saying, _Ani, I’m pregnant. That’s… that’s wonderful!_

 

Then it disappeared, retracted, hauled behind Vader’s shielding.

 

He almost felt disappointment – until Vader’s hand came up, blindingly warm, and came to rest on his back.

 

Luke took a deep breath; real. It was definitely real.

 

Some great weight, that he hadn’t even realized had been crushing him, lifted. However twisted and flayed Vader’s motives were, they came from a place of actual caring. There was something in the wreckage.

 

And if there was a chance in hell, Luke knew he had to take it. He was going to save his father.

**Author's Note:**

> So, who serenades Vader with, "I Am Not A Robot," by Marina and the Diamonds


End file.
